


I Still Want You Back

by patrickp



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6243271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrickp/pseuds/patrickp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete and Patrick were happy. Were being the keyword, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Still Want You Back

Pete and Patrick _were_ happy. Were being the keyword, of course. They went on dates, kissed a lot, and of course, fucked a lot. Patrick never really guessed that anything was wrong.

Infinity on High had just been released. They were starting touring again. They were happy.

The keyword was still were.

Patrick was in love. He looked at Pete and his entire heart swelled. When Pete crawled into bed at 3 am from crippling insomnia, Patrick just held him and kissed his forehead over and over until Pete would fall asleep, listening to the even, rhythmic breathing of the man beside him until that rhythmic beat lulled him to sleep as well.

He loved waking up early in the morning, when the light would shine just right so it wouldn’t blind him, but beautifully light up the room so he could see Pete’s sleeping face in beautiful detail. People would think Pete was the one to stare when you’re sleeping but in all reality, it was the other way around. Patrick would often lay in bed for perhaps even twenty minutes, just admiring the soft sunlight and eerie but happy quietness, the gentle breathing of Pete, and the love in his heart.

God, it was great.

Until it wasn’t.

The tour started, and Patrick didn’t get many sunlit mornings anymore. He didn’t get much of Pete at all. It went from blissful happiness to stressed out shitiness. As many would say, it went from 0 to 100 real quick. Or maybe it was the opposite- 100 to 0. That’s sure how Patrick felt.

Pete got stressed from the fame. Paparazzis, interviews, screaming fans chanting his name. It got to him. And not in the good way, where it would boost his ego- in the bad way, that it freaked him out. Pete’s only escape seemed to be partying. Drinking, drugs, all the shit that Patrick had rescued Pete from years ago.

To say the least, Patrick was disappointed. It made him so fucking _hurt_ to think that instead of turning to him for help, Pete turned to drinks and drugs and anything that could take away the pain instead of actually facing the problem at hand and learning to deal with it.

That’s the part that pissed Patrick off.

He felt betrayed.

\----------------

“Pete. Pete. Are you even listening to me?” Patrick turned around, shot a glare at Pete. 

“I’m sorry, Pattycakes, I’ve got a raging headache. I’m trying my best to listen, I swear.” Pete smiled, but it didn’t seem genuine.

“Yeah, cause you’re fucking hungover.” Patrick scoffed, angrily filling a glass of water and getting aspirin to take to Pete. He stormed away again, running his hand through his hair exasperatedly.

“Don’t get all salty with me, Patrick.”

“I’ll get salty with whoever the fuck I want to get salty with, Pete! Especially you!” Patrick groaned, so angry he just wanted to scream.

“What the fuck is your problem, Patrick?”

Patrick spun around, hands clenched in fists. “You. You, Pete! You and your fucking parties and hangovers and never spending any god damned time with me!” Patrick kicked the cabinet, so angry it physically hurt.

“Woah, woah, Patrick, calm down.”

“No, Pete, I will NOT calm down! You’ve been ignoring me and I’m sick of it. You’re… I don’t even know. You’re being an ass. And I’m done with it. You don’t give a shit about me. We’re done, Pete.”

Patrick turned and walked away and heard Pete scrambling to get up.

“Patrick, wait!”

“No. I can’t do this anymore, Pete. I can’t do it.”

And that was the end of that.

\----------------

They kept touring. They made the next album, kept touring, kept touring, kept touring. Patrick saw Pete almost every day of his life. He wanted to scream. He was so sick of it. He  
was still in love with Pete, but he couldn’t handle the blatant disregard for Patrick that Pete seemed to have.

That’s why Patrick called for a hiatus after Folie a Deux. It was enough that he was sick of Pete, and then to have everyone hate the album, his baby? He was so sick of everything that he just had to get away from it. Had to get away from everything.

He moved back to Chicago, lost weight, forgot about Pete. Moved on from Pete. Put out Truant Wave and Soul Punk. Those didn’t do too well, either.

He felt shitty. God, Patrick felt so shitty. Nothing was good anymore. Ever since they put out Infinity on High, his life had gone to shit. He and Pete broke up, he was depressed, Folie a Deux sucked, the band broke up, none of his solo albums did any well.

But he was over Pete. That, to him, felt like the most important thing. He could finally put that portion of hurt behind him, condemn it to the past.

So that’s why when Pete called for the band to get together, Patrick agreed. Whole heartedly. He was excited to come back, excited to have his friends and success again, he agreed.

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea.

\--------------

The first show back was a hit. They played the songs exactly like they had years ago, they all rocked out, and it was just… a great time. Until the end, of course.

Pete decided to talk to the fans. Not unlike Pete.

“Hey, guys. Are you excited we’re back?”

Screaming from the audience.

Pete laughed. “Good, good, we are too.” He took a breath, looking over at Patrick kind of nervously, but that anxiety being only present to Patrick who read between the lines and cover of his smile. He “Everyone says you are what you love, right? Well, if that’s true, I guess I’m Patrick.” He smiled at Patrick, small and genuine.

Patrick stepped up to his microphone, gripping it tightly in his right hand. He forced his face into a natural-looking smile, adding, “I guess I’d be Joe then.” Patrick laughed, looking over to Joe who laughed as well, then over to Pete who laughed, but it looked forced.

Patrick just couldn’t say he was Pete because he wasn’t sure if he was or not.

They played the last song, Saturday, and then exited, and Patrick just ran to his dressing room and kind of had a panic attack.

Pete still loved him.

How the fuck was he supposed to react to that? He wasn’t sure if he felt the same way.

Patrick promptly did something he hadn’t done in years. He remembered the sunlit mornings. Soft, sleepy kisses and legs tangled in the gentle sunlight, being absolutely in love and never wanting anything except that morning to last forever and a day.

But then he remembered when the sunlit mornings ended. With the tour brought the end of their relationship, the partying, Pete stumbling home at 4am, drunk off his ass, yelling at Patrick when Patrick just tried to get Pete to stop for his own health.

The explosive ending.

How he cried for weeks, every night and morning when his bed was empty and his chest physically hurt in longing for Pete’s skinny little space heater body.

Patrick just kept debating, kept thinking, made a list of pros and cons, if his love or his hurt weighed more on his heart, which would be better for him: With or Without Pete.

He had wanted to have his answer by the next show, but he just couldn’t figure out how he felt. It took about two weeks to decide. Two weeks of watching Pete just slump his shoulders in sadness whenever he saw Patrick.

He knew what to do.

Patrick walked back onstage for the encore of Saturday, and while normally Pete would say something, Patrick rushed to the microphone to talk before Pete had a chance.

“Hey! I know normally Pete talks here, but you guys don’t matter if I say a couple words, do you?” Patrick grinned as the audience screamed, fans waving their hands. “People say you are what you love, right? I guess that means I’m Pete.” Patrick grinned at Pete, who looked 100% shocked.

Patrick grabbed his mic off the stand and started walking towards Pete. “C’mere, Pete.”

Pete slowly started smiling as he moved towards Patrick quickly, almost breaking into a run to meet him, guitars crashing together as their lips met in what would become one of the best kisses Patrick had ever had.

The audience went wild.


End file.
